


Walls

by SilverFountains



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:00:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFountains/pseuds/SilverFountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grief washed over the stronghold of Erebor. The battle had left devastation in its wakes. Fili has perished trying to shield his uncle. Thorin has lost his mind to the devastating loss of his heir. And Kili … no-one knows what had happened to the youngest in the line of Durin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt : free

Grief washed over the stronghold of Erebor. The battle had left devastation in its wakes. Fili had perished in a volley of arrows, trying to shield his uncle. Thorin had lost his already fragile mind to the devastating loss of his heir. And Kili … no-one knew what had happened to the youngest in the line of Durin. Some said he had died alongside his brother and that the orcs mutilated his body so badly that he could not be returned home to be put to the stone. Other said he had been captured by the enemy and was being tortured somewhere far away. And others still believed that he had run away, unable to cope with his brother’s death.

Thorin had been the last one to see the brothers, alive and together. And Dis had pleaded with him to reveal what he knew of Kili’s fate. But the king did not speak to her. Nor did he speak to Balin or Dwalin. Or even Bilbo, whom he appeared to have reconciled himself with. The only time words fell from his lips were the words necessary to rule his kingdom, to hold council with the clans, to make decisions of strategic importance. But they were the bare minimum. And as soon as those official gatherings were over he would return to his chosen muteness. Staring at the Arkenstone, the  king’s jewel for which he had risked and lost so much.

***

He traces every inch of the stone cell. Even though light does not reach into his prison he has run his fingertips along every nook and cranny of the two by two space for hours on end, day after day, and he knows every curve, every dip, every blunt and sharp corner. And he also knows that there is no way out . There are no windows. There is no door. There are only two links with the world beyond his tomb. There is hole in the floor that he uses to relieve himself – if he peers through it he can see the endless drop into nothingness; the only indication that his prison is up high in some sort of tower. And then there is the one loose stone in the opposite wall which once a day is removed when he is given food and drink. Just enough to sustain him, to keep him alive.

He sinks down onto the stone floor again, crawling back to the furs in the corner which serve as his bed. He has lost track of time a long time ago. When he had first woken up here he had tried to track the days by counting the daily visits. But after so many days they had all started to blend into one. He could have been here weeks, months, even years. He really did not know. And he felt he was slowly becoming one with the stone around him.

In the first few weeks all that he could think about was his brother. How he had watched the lifeblood flow from him. How he had held his hand, shouting at him not to leave him until the hand had slipped lifeless from his. And all he could see when he closed his eyes were his brother’s beautiful blue eyes staring blankly as Mahal took him to his Halls.

And after that there had been pain and then nothing. Until he had woken up here, in his stone tomb, forever encased in the cold darkness.

He realises with a shock that he can no longer remember what the colour of the sky looks like. What the scent of grass smells like. He cannot remember what it is like to be free, to feel the breeze in his hair and the sun on his face. And he cannot remember what it feels like to touch another living being. To feel soft warm skin underneath his fingers instead of cold stone. And he wonders if he imagines that feeling. Is skin really that soft? Is it really warm? He touches his own, but the touch feels alien, like his body is not his body. And he wonders what is real. Is any of this real? Is this just a dream? Or is he dead and is this what the afterlife is like?

***

He jolts up at the scraping of stone on stone and blinks hard at the soft ray of light from a torch falling inside the stone cell.

“Good evening little Kee,” the deep voice on the other side sounds. Next the little tray with cold meat and bread and cheese and a jug of ale is shoved through the small opening, which Kili takes reluctantly. He is not hungry. He hardly uses any energy sat in his cell all day so there is harldy any need for him to eat.

But he hovers by the opening, glancing through, seeing the flash of deep blue with the bright silver embroidery on the other side. “S … stay a little …” he croaks.

“Of course I will, little Kee. Shall I tell you a story?”

“Please.” His voice is but a hoarse whisper, unpractised and unused. Then a thought comes to him. “C … can I touch you? Please. Your hand.”

Next a large hand slides through the opening. He touches it tentatively at first, tracing the coarse fingers, the broad palm, the sparkling silver ring with the blue gemstone set in it. “Warm,” he sighs. He grabs the hand, threads his fingers through it. And so they sit, side by side but separated by the thick stone wall as the elder talks and the younger listens. And the hours pass until Kili starts to drop off.

“Sleep now, little Kee,” Thorin whispers as the hand slips from his own. “I will be back tomorrow. You will be safe here. Safe always. I will never let you go.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Rammstein - Stein um Stein  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARlKQhLcMo0
> 
> Translation of lyrics (http://en.affenknecht.com/lyrics/rammstein-stein-um-stein-lyric-with-english-translation/)  
> I have plans big plans  
> I'm going to build you a house  
> Every stone will be a tear  
> And you'll never move out again  
> Yeah I'm going to build a little house for you  
> with no windows no door  
> It'll be dark inside  
> No light will get in at all
> 
> Yeah I'll make you a home  
> And you are to be a part of it all
> 
> Stone by stone I wall you in  
> Stone by stone  
> I'll always be with you
> 
> Without clothes without shoes  
> You watch me working  
> With your feet in cement  
> You brighten up the foundation  
> Outside there will be a garden  
> And no one will hear you scream
> 
> Stone by stone I wall you in  
> Stone by stone  
> I'll always be with you
> 
> What a pounding what a hammering  
> Outside it's starting to get dark  
> All of the nails stand at attention  
> when I ram them into your body-wood
> 
> Stone by stone I wall you in  
> Stone by stone  
> And nobody will hear you scream


End file.
